


it's JOHN egbert, buster!

by rieunn



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Barista AU, Cheesy, Crushes, Cute, Denial, Fluff, Gay Panic, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Slice of Life, Texting, They Are Cute Tho, bluh tags, dave is a wingman, dirk is a barista, dirk purposely misspells john's name on his cups, he's in college and its hard and no one understands, john is a drama king, john is dying for the good beans, just a little sprint oneshot thing, things turn flirty in like 2 seconds flat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:42:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieunn/pseuds/rieunn
Summary: John is fed up with a certain spiky-haired barista for misspelling his name because 'it's really not that hard! jeez!' But said barista has an ulterior motive, seven hours left on the clock, and an orange pen - and he's not afraid to use it. Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: John Egbert/Dirk Strider
Comments: 9
Kudos: 93
Collections: dirkjohn flash sprints





	it's JOHN egbert, buster!

**Author's Note:**

> i have not slept. but my dirkjohn needs have been satisfied, so i'm calling it a win.
> 
> also i would like to thank my server buddies for enabling my feral mode and for doing sprints w/ me! you guys are the best :)

You peek discreetly around a brick corner and into glass, glancing around you first to make sure no one sees you acting suspicious. Not that you’re _doing_ anything suspicious! Just... It would it be super awkward to get odd looks from nosy passersby when what you’re doing is extremely innocent and fine! You frown a bit, feeling a little sheepish, and stare reluctantly and begrudgingly past the open sign of the local coffee shop – affectionately dubbed ‘Doc’s Beans’ for some godawful reason by its owner – and lean a little more to see behind the service counter.

Fuck.

_Fuuuck._

_He’s_ here.

You groan. Your name is JOHN EGBERT, you are 22 YEARS OLD, it is 7 IN THE GODDAMN MORNING, and _man,_ you’re really just looking for a good, hassle-free coffee fix before your DREARY DAY officially begins. Doc’s Beans – _ugh,_ seriously, that _name_ – is the only place around, sadly, that makes their coffee using 100% organic beans – the only kind that don’t upset your stomach. And you _need_ your coffee. Business classes really aren’t the most interesting classes in the world – _especially_ when they’re 8 AMs. Man, you’d think about changing your major but you’re already in your junior year and it just seems... bluh. Pointless.

As soon as you catch sight of blond hair and dumb pointy shades, you’re retreating from your peeping vantage point, back against the brick. You press your index finger and thumb to the bridge of your nose.

Ughhh!

Why is it that _every single time_ you just need a good fucking cup of joe, _he’s_ there? The bane of your existence. The curse that the gods have decided to place on you for playing too many pranks on unsuspecting family members and friends. The barista currently working in the coffee shop is none other than Dirk Strider. More like DICK Strider! What a jerk, ugh! You see, Dirk has apparently decided that it is his life’s purpose to make your morning coffee runs as miserable as possible.

It’s not that he frequently gets your order wrong, is rude or has a bad attitude, or isn’t working properly and is just messing around. It’s not even something more serious, like spitting in or salting your coffee. No, it’s not anything like that, at all.

It’s even _worse!_ This man has intentionally, time and time again, committed the absolute worst of all of the barista crimes conceivable:

_Name Misspelling._

_Joan, Jonne, Jean, Juan, Jeun, Johan_... Just thinking about them boils your blood! At first, you thought maybe he was just genuinely confused – you _do_ have a tiny bit of a speech impediment and the nerdy lilt to your voice doesn’t really help – but soon, after trying to politely repeat your name as though it would fix the problem, you discovered that he was most _definitely_ fucking with you. For starters, your name is literally JOHN! That’s such an _easy_ name to get right – because it’s so common! You have _never_ had problems with people misspelling your name before. _Ever!_ So, for this Dick Strider to write _‘Jeauxhanne’_ – and then, the next day, even more infuriatingly, ‘ _Yawn’ –_ on the space just below the rim of your cup... and then look at you like ‘what,’ when you blinked up at him in pure disbelief and indignance both times? Grrr!

You don’t want to go in – honestly, you’re probably better off just foregoing the caffeine altogether, at this point! Screw giving some place named ‘Doc’s Beans’ your business! Hmph!

But... you’re thinking about having to sit through another one of Crocker’s droning lessons and you... you sigh, defeatedly.

You need the bean juice.

You feel a headache coming on.

You _definitely_ need the bean juice.

...Fuck.

The bell above the door jingles when the door hits it, and you have to force yourself not to flinch at the sound. Ugh. Bluh! Bluh, bluh, bluh! This sucks. Doc’s Beans sucks. Dirk Strider sucks. Everything sucks! This mantra repeats over and over in your mind as you walk over to the counter. Stupid shades. Stupid lame hairstyle. Stupid dumb poker face. Without making eye contact, you force the words you dread most out of your mouth.

“... Hi.”

“Hey. The usual?”

“... Yes, please.” After you pay, he’s turning away from you, in his stupidly bright green apron, and he’s making your stupid vanilla latte with three shots of espresso – because you’re stressed and you procrastinate until 4:13 AM – and you’re waiting over at the opposite end of the counter for it. Your arms are crossed and there’s a tense frown on your face because you fucking know it’s coming, you _know_ it is, and you don’t like it. Not one bit! The next time you glance up, he’s walking over to you, gloriously refreshing caffeinated beverage in his hands.

He hands it over to you with a, “Here you go, John,” and you’re so surprised you almost don’t even take it, fingers stalling in their reach. He said your name, which he’s never done before. Out loud, with his own two lips, which are quirked up a bit and... it’s a nice look on him, a smile.

A bit dazed, you take the cup, mumbling, “Oh... thanks,” so quietly you wonder if maybe he’s even able to hear you say it, but then he nods slightly, and you’re starting to turn away. And then you look down and you fucking see it.

You stop dead in your tracks.

It’s a fucking...

Shittily drawn doodle...

Of _you..._

In the fucking _Garfield_ art style, done in this godawful _bright fucking orange_ color...

With the name _‘Jon’_ written next to it...

You hear snickering behind you. And _that’s it._ That’s motherfucking _it!_ You’ve had it up to HERE with this man’s antics, and you will cease to tolerate them _right this very instant!_ Dirk Strider is about to get his ass verbally handed to him so hard he’ll probably have to cry himself to sleep at home and stop working here altogether! Which, honestly, you know fucking what? GOOD. Because anyone _CHOOSING_ to work at a place called fucking _‘DOC’S BEANS’_ deserves just that very fucking thing! For FUCK’S sake, are you seriously the ONLY goddamn person who finds the name of this place to be so intolerably STUPID?You refuse to believe it! BLUH, there's just so much to be angry about here you don't even know where to START!!!

Just kidding. You most definitely fucking do. You turn around and stomp back up to the counter. Dirk looks like he’s only just barely able to keep himself from snorting a laugh out. Ugh!!! What an asshole!

“Now you listen here, mister Dirk Strider! I was _going_ to give you the benefit of the doubt! I was _going_ to be kind and generous and not even mention the fact that you’ve been purposefully misspelling my name this whole time at all! But you have crossed a line here, buddy! What is _this?_ Explain yourself! _”_ you demand, indignant, and you gesture to the doodle. Dirk clears his throat.

“It’s you, of course. I thought you might be able to deduce that yourself. Man, no one appreciates or understands art anymore. How tragic.” You huff exasperatedly.

“I know that! I meant! Ugh! Why are you doing this, huh? What are you getting out of this?” Dirk only raises a brow.

“Amusement, obviously,” he states, monotone, and you’re so mad at the quip that you could just _throw_ something, but then he’s continuing, looking a little less composed, “and, uh, your phone number – or at least, I was _hoping_ to. Kinda hard to have a conversation with someone you’re interested in when you’re on the clock, you feel?” and, oh.

_Oh._

You flush.

“O-Oh, I... Sorry, I... I don’t s-swing that way?” you sputter in your nervousness. It ends up coming out sounding a little like a question, and oh _god,_ Dirk is raising his eyebrows and smirking a little and, _goddamn,_ okay, so it’s not _just_ his smile that looks nice! Haha! Wow! That’s! Concerning!

“... You’re asking _me?_ Well, I’m not so sure, either... if you give me your number and go on a date with me, though, we can find out together, if you want,” he’s suggesting slyly, smoothly, and you feel yourself grow even more warm. This... is not _at all_ how you were expecting this interaction to go! Like... seriously, _at all!_ Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, _holy shit._ Why is your heart thudding so loudly in your chest? You’re restless, and you find it a little hard to breathe. You should say no. No, scratch that, that argument sounds so fucking weak! Fuck! You _want_ to say no! There we go. Gosh! One would think you-

“I... oh jeez, uh... I... okay?” God fucking damn it. You blame your body’s malfunctioning for that response. You also blame it for the napkin you pass back to him, which has your number scrawled on it – with the _correct_ spelling of your name, thank you very much! – _and_ for the small awkward wave you offer him when you’re leaving the little café. All of it was 100% you completely fudging up and not knowing how to respond to being hit on by a guy.

You’ll tell him that, later, when he’s texted you and you’re calmer and more collected! You’ll tell him that it was a mistake on your part, and that you’re terribly sorry, but that you’re definitely 100000% gay. WAIT. _NOT_ GAY. That’s not what you – fuck it, _you_ know what you mean! And that’s all that matters!

Twenty minutes later, as you’re walking to back to campus, thinking hard about this and sipping from the wonderfully caffeinated beverage that’s soothing your frayed nerves and chasing some of the exhaustion away, your phone vibrates in your hoodie pocket. That must be him! You fish it out of your pocket to enact your plan, adding the number to your contacts without looking at the message – snorting to yourself over the stupid nickname you come up with for him – and then when you exit out of that and start reading what he texted you, you immediately choke on your drink.

7:35 AM – The Bean Man: Red’s a good color on you.

You’re flushing again, and you hate it, because it’s almost as though you’re proving his point for him. Ugh... he’s really laying it on thick, isn’t he? Damn. You try not to think about how that’s making you feel. Deflect, Egbert, deflect. Your phone buzzes again – yet another message.

7:36 AM – The Bean Man: By the way – I hope you know you’re not getting out of going on this date with me, John. I’m definitely holding you to it. Let me know when you’re free.

Fuck.

_Fuuuck._

Face burning, you slowly and carefully text him back.

7:37 AM – You: ...that first message was just about the cheesiest thing i’ve ever heard, dirk! but... um, i guess... tomorrow night, i’m free?? last class ends at 5 pm. but! don’t expect much!

7:39 AM – The Bean Man: I have it on good authority that cheesy is basically your whole thing, dude. Dave’s my brother, if you didn’t know. Also, I’m free at 6:30, so maybe we can meet up sometime around 7.

You blink.

Hold on... Dave’s _what now?_

You facepalm just a half second later. Dirk _Strider_ the nametag said... you should have seen that one coming! No _wonder_ he fucked with you! To be fair, though, although you and Dave have been friends since you met freshman year, you’ve never actually seen the guy outside of at Doc’s Beans in the mornings – the few times you had hung out at their shared apartment, he wasn’t there. So, it’s not your fault! Also, how dare Dave tell him that you’re cheesy! That couldn’t be further from the truth. You are cool. So cool. Like a summer breeze, man!

7:41 AM – You: ugh, i should have known! tell him i hate him next time you see him and that his casey petting rights are being revoked!! also, uh... are we just meeting at the coffee shop?? what are we doing? no weird shit, okay!!

7:41 AM – The Bean Man: Gladly. Also, sure, we can do that. Or, you can just come over and we can chill and watch the Shrek series together – very romantic, I know. It’s a classic.

7:42 AM – You: that... actually sounds GREAT??? and not weird at all like I maybe thought it was gonna be? no offense! but, yeah, let’s do that! :0

7:43 AM – The Bean Man: None taken, but of course it sounds great. I have fantastic taste in both movies and shows, just so you know. Anyways... 7's a good time for you to come over, right?

You pause at this last message. You know... you were sorta nervous about it before, but... if it’s going to be as chill as he’s making it sound... maybe it won’t be so bad? Maybe! Besides, he did have a nice smile. And freckles. You’re a sucker for freckles! Besides, the fact that he’s Dave’s brother and that you’ve heard a little about Dirk from him kind of eases your mind a bit. From what you know, he’s a complete dork, and so are you, so it should be fine! If he does anything weird you can just... punch him and leave? Probably? Yeah. That train of thought gives you another nickname idea, and you quickly rename his contact before texting him back.

7:45 AM – You: yeah, that works for me!

7:45 AM – Dork: Alright, then. It’s a date.

And a date it most definitely is.

**Author's Note:**

> and then they fucked to the scene featuring smashmouth's "all-star" in the soundtrack
> 
> the end


End file.
